(blog header image: clothespin-keh by Fire Eyes, flickr)

I attempt not to fall asleep as I type this. Three rather unfortunate things have happened, perhaps foreboding. I mean, all before I intended to post here. The pseudo-universe squeals in high frequencies : the start of you spending your time growing your brainseeds and expanding your narccissitic abilities on a blog will mean bad, BAD things.

BUT I will push forth, like er…Hilary (sp?) Swank. Forgive my lack of true imagination, my father brought home September’s InStyle for general vapid gaping. It features her.

Three bad things :

Re: last bullet point, I have not touched a contraption like this in recent years, but I am only somewhat cajoled by this explanation of my ineptitude. Also did not bother with the manual. FAIL.

Anyway, today’s juiceness comes from three things.

One : I wish I was born with the below silver spoon in my mouth. The fruit and cream would have also been welcomed. (Deb McClean’s brilliance)

Two : Four slivers of thingies to show you.

Clockwise from the left:

  • a dress sketch (which I rarely do, having mediocre proportionating drawing abilities);
  • my birthday free gift card from L’Occitane (I should bring my father to collect it. He after all purchases InStyle and Men’s Folio);
  • Vico, my favourite chocolate drink which has a mysterious lack of internet presence;
  • and, my happy candlestick earring holder for my frequently used ones

Three : An amazing woman, dab hand at Victorian handicraft of quilling, Yulia Brodskaya.

It’s September, already.


I need to get to the hills.


One thought on “Q.E.D.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s